'L'A LL E G R 0.: While the plow-man near at hand Whiffles o'er the forrow'd land, And the milkmaid fingeth And the mower whets his lithe, And every fhepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale. Strait mine eye hash caught, new pleafures Whilft the landfleip round it meafures, Ruffet lawns, and fallows gray, Where the nibbling flocks do fray, Mountains on whole barren breaa The lab'ring clouds do often reft, Meadows trim with dailies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide. Towers and battlements it fees Bofom'd high in tufted trees, Where perhaps fame beauty lies, The Cynofure of neighb'ring eyes. Hard by, a cottage chimney fmokes, From betwixt two aged oaks, Where Corydon and Thyrfis met, Are at their favory dinner fet Of herbs, and other country meffes, Which the neat-handed Phillis drefres ; And then in hafle her bow'r (he leaves, With Theaylis to bind the (heaves ; Or if the earlier fealon lead To the tann'd haycock in the mead. Sometimes with fecure delight The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocond rebecs found To many a. youth, and many a maid, Dancing in the chequer'd fhade; And young and old come forth to play 447 65 70 75 So 85 90 95 On
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